


S06E06: Abyss

by merr



Series: Unspoken [1]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Canon Dialogue, Episode Related, Episode: s06e06 Abyss, M/M, POV First Person, POV Jack, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-25
Updated: 2013-11-25
Packaged: 2018-01-02 14:25:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1057837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merr/pseuds/merr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What Jack couldn't say to Daniel during the events of Abyss.</p><p>
  <i>All spoken dialogue is 100% canon in this piece; I am not claiming it as my own. No plagiarism intended, just straight-forward quotation and observation.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	S06E06: Abyss

Those gravity tricks Ba'al pulled really threw me for a loop in the beginning. Not quite as much as the woman who appeared and disappeared outta nowhere though. I'm still trying to orient myself when I hear a familiar voice:

"Hi, Jack."

Yeeeup, there it goes, the last of my sanity. That was quick. I swear I'm hearing Danny, outta nowhere -- ouf, yep, there he is. Goofy sweater, spiky hair, those baby blues. He waves at me.

"Daniel?"

"I leave and look at the mess you get yourself into... It's good to see you."

"Yeah. You too." I can't really deal with how good it is to hear his voice again; can't quite block out the hope, either. "It's a shame you're a delusion."

"No, I'm here. I'm really here."

"Sure you are." ...It's my delusion, I can be as pissy as I want, right? I tug my shoe off and throw it at him, both hoping it will hit him and praying that it won't. Because if he's here, that means he's as stuck as I am and I can't stand to feel that powerlessness all over again.

He looks a little exasperated after he flinches away from the projectile; I allow myself a small measure of relief while he does his whole... geek thing: "Here in the sense that my consciousness is here, if not here in the full physical flesh and blood sense, which is really... neither here nor there. The point is: you're not imaging this."

I point out the obvious, now fairly convinced my mind's trying to give an old man some last shreds of comfort before he goes totally wacko. "I just tossed my shoe through you."

"Yes, you did. That's because I've ascended to another plane of existence." That long suffering look -- how can you miss something you used to absolutely hate?

I play along. "Ohhh."

"Remember Oma Desala, the whole... glowing thing, you helped me out, I couldn't have done that without you -- remember that?"

Of course I remember my heart breaking into a million little bits, you little... "Yeah."

"I'm -- I'm energy now..."

And that's somehow better than hockey and pizza, flesh and blood, SG1 and your life's work? "How's that workin' out for you?"

"Good, actually... very..." He looks awkward which is still as charming as ever. How hard I've really missed him punches me in the gut at all once.

I try not to sound bitter and fail in a big way. Whoops. "Good."

He shifts uncomfortably. "Very good. You, however..."

I deflect the concern with a hand and patent O'Neill sarcastic quip. "Yeah, well... you know what it's like, comin' back from the dead." I grab my shoe, half expecting him to poof away like the woman from before. "Takes a while to get the color back in the cheeks."

"Yeah..."

That regretful tone of voice... Maybe he is here. Maybe I'm not stark raving mad. I swallow my hope and sit down, then point my shoe at Daniel to stall for time. "So... not a delusion?"

"No." That little smile. Shit. Lifts my heart even as it blows the seal straight off the hope I was trying to stifle. I'd seen Oma pull some pretty impressive stuff in her time, maybe, just maybe Daniel'd come to do the same for me.

"Okay... so, show me your stuff. Bust me outta here."

"I can't."

I don't even blink -- this is Daniel we're talking about. Of course he's gonna be difficult to begin with. "Why not?"

"I'm not allowed to interfere." I see him cringe -- he knows I'm not gonna let it go that easily.

"You're interfering right now."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not. I am... consoling a friend."

That little headshake he gives me, eyebrows twitching up -- he can really be a brat sometimes. ...Doesn't take the edge off how much I miss arguing with him. I'm stuffing the silver of desperation down under sarcasm; I'm gesturing with my hands, trying to keep my composure. "What good's the power to make the wind blow or toss lightning around if you can't use it to spring an old friend outta jail?"

"I would if I could."

"You can't do that stuff?" Real doubt for a second -- maybe he can't, maybe he's doing the best he can... in which case, I'll try to cut him some slack. I know it's a bit late to start being the Understanding Colonel after the blows our friendship had taken that last year before he ... died or whatever... but... well, better late than never?

"I can. I just -- I can't." I recognize that look, that tone; how many times had it made me want to shake the little shit right out of his boots offworld while he made excuses for alien cultures, violent reactions and asinine rules?

The disappointment tastes like cotton in my mouth. Really? Am I surprised? He's always played by everyone's rules but mine, what else is new? "Well, thanks for stopping by, then." I know it's petty, but I've never been good at not lashing out at him, anyway. Pining after him for months has made it worse, just like it had been doing before everything reached a head with Reese and her stupid toys.

He gets that angry little look on his face -- a look I've wanted to kiss off his face for years. "Ba'al is torturing you and I wasn't just gonna sit by. Look, all he wants to know is the reason you came to this planet. You really don't know?"

I'm a bit surprised -- seemed to me when one became a glowing ball of... whatever... he might have a bit more knowledge than your average joe. "Do you?"

"Well, all I know is that you -- or more accurately, the symbiote the Tok'ra placed inside of you, congratulations, by the way -- walked off undetected in the middle of the night and came here."

I decide that he's not being sarcastic, but I'm still pissed at myself for ever agreeing to it -- especially after waking up in the clutches of yet another goa'uld psychopath. "I can't believe I actually let them put a snake in my head. My head! I agreed to this."

"It never shared with you why it would walk alone into a heavily fortified Goa'uld outpost?"

Can't help but get defensive. "There was no sharing! I was sick."

A cringe before he admits: "I know."

"They did the implantation -- a word I intend never to use again -- and I woke up here." I try to reign in some of the helpless tone in my voice. "...That's my week, so far."

"So you really don't know."

"Ahh, something to do with one of Ba'al's slaves. I got a visual but I've never met her before."

"Nobody knows you're here." I feel my mouth fall open but Daniel goes on anyway. "Even if they did, they'd never be able to pull off a rescue because this place is a fortress. Ba'al is just gonna keep on torturing you to death and reviving you in a sarcophagus until he finds out what he wants, which is impossible because you don't know anything..." I glance back at him, see the pain in his face and I'm starting to get nervous. "...or until you're not worth reviving any more. But you'll cease to be the Jack O'Neill we know long before that." ...Holy hell, Daniel. Has being made of energy robbed you of that irritating knack you've always had for gentle human communication? Or are you just trying to scare me into something?

I decide to deflect the horror with gallows humor -- 's always worked in the past. "Well. Apparently, I've got a big day tomorrow."

"No, I'm not gonna let that happen. I won't let him destroy you." He's got that furrowed-brow, thinking-hard face on again and it chases away some of the storm clouds in my brain.

"You just said you couldn't help."

"No, I can't stop Ba'al from torturing you any more than Oma could heal my radiation sickness, but..." He's decided something; he looks up at me, pins me with those eyes: "I can help you ascend."

I'm feeling incredulous and skeptical, which is more normal, so the sarcasm comes easy. "So, you wanna be my Oma?"

He looks a little embarrassed. "You could put it that way... I mean, I wouldn't, but maybe that's just me."

"And then what?" I'm already thinking of everything I'd have to leave behind -- Sam, Teal'c, the SGC, beer, hockey, pie... I'm trying really, really hard to remind myself that all of those things mean a lot to me, and maybe, just maybe, their forces combined mean more to me than being near Daniel again.

"Then? Then I don't know." He's looking a little frustrated -- his lips pursed like that, hands twitching a bit even as they're clasped together. It makes it hard to remember what I loved about pie so much, really...

"You don't know." Read: I don't believe you, one bit. He gets the message loud and clear, I can hear it in his response -- cue classic Daniel defensiveness.

"No, no. Ascension doesn't make you all-knowing. I mean, I really... don't know."

Okay, I'm getting a bit irritated now. "If I'm catchin' the next plane of existence outta here, you gotta give me somethin'."

"It's your journey. No one but you can choose what you become or the path you take. All I can promise you is it will be an amazing journey." I snort at him, look away. I expect him to get in a tizzy, like the old days, but his voice remains calm, resolute. "Once you release your burden." All I can think is: to hell with that -- being there for my team isn't a burden; doing my damndest to save the world isn't a burden. Loving you isn't a... I let anger take the wheel, steer me away from that little contradiction.

"Daniel, so help me, if you start talkin' like Oma..."

"I'm not talking like Oma Desala."

"Sounds like Oma to me." He'd be cute, getting all fired up in this familiar defensiveness after all, if I wasn't so irritated with him.

"No, no, no -- see Oma would say something like, uh, uh--" Who the hell am I kidding? I want to kiss the stutter right outta his mouth. "--'If you know immediately that the candle is fire then the meal was cooked a long time ago... or something like that." God damn but I've missed him. My stomach is in knots and I feel a headache coming on.

"Why?" Why can't you be less yourself, just for a moment? Why can't you be cold and detached and be anything but the man I miss so much I can't let a sliver of it show to anyone or I'll turn inside out?

He lets out that low growl he does when he's realized he got caught up in a sniping-match with me and doesn't want to keep going. "To open your mind." He pins me with those eyes and I put a finger up, searching for the emotional response I'd like to put out there rather than all the complicated ones I'm having.

Sarcasm is always a good idea; I believe this whole heartedly, even when it's not true. "Though a candle burns in my house, there's nobody home."

He closes his eyes -- his equivalent of rolling them at me -- and I feel a little bit of triumph. I'll be damned if I'm going to be the only one a little irked here. "Okay... let's take this one step at a time. This has to be something you want. I can't do this for you." He really does want to help me, I can see it. I almost feel bad about being a shit... almost. I'm watching his hands, thinking of all the things I've wanted him to do for me, to me, with me, over the years. I take a deep breath, look around; now's not the time, Jack. It won't ever be the time for that. Moving on.

I'm saddened by all the steps I kept myself from taking when I had the chance. "One step at a time." Deadpan.

He parrots me, determined. "One step at a time."

I look at anything but him; if I look him in the eye, that giving expression, that patience... It's gonna make me unravel. "...There's gotta be another way outta here."

"Jack--" His voice is so earnest, so gentle -- I switch to tactical thinking, distancing myself from the ache welling up in my chest.

"What if you did a little scoutin' for me? That'd be all right, wouldn't it?"

"No." Good. This is good. Normal. We're in the field, he wants more time to look at ruins, I'm in a rush to get outta the rain, I can work with this. This little cajoling session makes sense.

"I'm not askin' you to knock down walls or anything -- just a little recon."

"Ba'al is just gonna torture you again..." Good old Doctor Jackson -- he does so love to state the obvious exactly when it's least welcomed.

"Or uh, uh -- A Zat gun. Help me get my hands on a Zat gun." I'm ignoring you, Daniel; I'm ignoring that you keep refusing to go along with me on this one, even just in theory. I'm trying not to feel broken up about the fact that some glowy-tribe's rules are enough to keep you from helping me.

"The next time is gonna be worse..."

Dammit, Daniel. Dammit! Lie to me if you have to, for god's sake! "That's when we move -- the next time they come for me."

He's giving no quarter. Of course not. His voice is the most stubborn I've ever heard it and it slams against me like a tidal wave of ice water. "You can't fight your way out of this."

"Then help me!"

His voice goes up a pitch -- "Not that way!" It's not the first time I've wanted to knock him through a wall but I'm terrified, truly, that it's going to be the last. "They're coming."

Alright, we're doing this, whether Daniel likes it or not. He'll help me, I know it -- when push comes to shove, he always comes through. "They can see you, right? We can use that."

"I'll be back."

"A distraction, that's all I'm askin' for--" Begging for. Christ, do I have to beg, Danny? Really?

"I promise." I'm staring at the jaffa, waiting for their reactions -- nothing. I look over and Daniel's gone.

Yeah, there's fear in my voice now: "...Daniel?" I step back, the jaffa hit the gravity button; I hit the new floor face first and try to shake it off, but inevitably, I'm frog-marched back to Ba'al's funroom. I'm shellshocked, the whole way there and it only gets worse when Ba'al starts in with the acid. Daniel left. He left me there. It's a disgusting cliche, I know, but... the degree of pain as the acid eats down through my chest cavity isn't the only thing making my voice tight with despair.

 

* * *

 

Ah. Home sweet home. I'm still feeling stunned, even after the sarcophagus. The slave woman is there, staring down at me, speaking, questioning my in a tiny, broken voice: "Is it you?"

"What?" I'm struggling with the numbness and she looks so sad. Devoid of hope. Her voice matches so well as she goes on.

"You shouldn't have come back."

I have to give her something -- her voice is so full of concern, of sadness. Despair. I want her to know I'm not ignoring what she thinks she needs from me. "I don't remember..."

"If I leave with you, he will know."

It comes in a flash then -- Kanan, touching her face gently, those cherry lips in a smile under his thumb as he made her a promise. "You..."

I still haven't fully grasped the gravity of that by the time Daniel's there, eyebrows furrowed: "Jack, who are you talking to?"

I flick my eyes away from him back to the woman, mind reeling with all of the intermingled webs of love, fear, doubt, frustration... I finally understand, at least a bit, what Sam was talking about each time she mentioned her struggle with Jolinar's memories. "The woman."

"There's nobody there."

No, there isn't. Not anymore. And I can't finish what Kanan started anymore than I can save my own ass. I take a second to crawl out of that little pit of self-loathing and readjust my voice. "Look who's talking..."

"Does it still hurt?"

I tug at a hole in my shirt, pulling it away from my chest; he's talking about my body, so I give him the most correct answer to his question. "No."

"Told you I'd come back." ...He's joking with me, just a little. I can damn near hear his eyebrows jump up. He's looking for praise, for recognition, for me to accept that he's doing everything he can. Call me a bastard, but I'm not in a giving mood.

"If the Daniel Jackson I knew was really here..."

That's just a little bit of hurt in his voice, and you know what? I'm not sorry. "I am..."

"Then do something." I can see that hurt crescendo into something bigger and, no, I'm still not sorry. In fact, I'm getting angrier by the second as the rest of my body gets the memo that it's not dead anymore. I scramble up, get in his face just a little bit: "You listen to me -- I don't wanna go through that again. If you were really my friend and had the power to stop it, you'd stop it."

He looks ashamed, sounds like he's in physical pain: "The hardest part of being who or what I am is having the power to change the things I want to change and knowing that I can't." I give him an incredulous, clearly unimpressed look. "Even when I'm certain, even when it's absolutely clear to me -- even when it affects the people I care about." I roll my eyes and look away. If I don't, I'm going to make a fool of myself trying to shake the shit out of something I can't even grab a hold of. Or worse, cry. Probably both. "Because for all I can do, I'm no more qualified to play God than the Goa'uld are." I finish turning away, put my hands against the wall, drop my head to the light fixture -- oh fucking stuff it, Danny. Weren't you the one bitching about how the K'tau might not be ready to know who the Asgard were? That is was okay to play gods as long as you weren't being a prick about it? He has the good grace to shut his trap for a couple moments but then goes ahead and does what he's always done, plowing on stubborn as a mule, "Ba'al will keep this up."

I'm loud and it feels good to snap at him. "Yes, he will."

"So we don't have an unlimited amount of time." He's getting fed up with me. Gee, how's it feel, Danny boy?

"Gotta be some place, do ya?" ...That didn't feel as cathartic as I thought it would. Dammit.

" No." The silence almost cracks me, it does -- I want to grab him, more than before, but for different reasons. I want to tell him to ignore my anger, beg him to see it's just fear, ask him to tell me all about the first steps toward enlightenment again. I do none of these things because they wouldn't matter now; can't matter. It already hurts him enough to know he can't directly help me. I'm being a selfish bastard, trying to hurt him to keep myself upright. "Look, there must be a reason that Kanan came back here. Was it for the woman? The one you were just talking to? She must have something to do with all of this." Yeah. She does. She's been abandoned and doesn't even know why. She thinks I can save her and I can't. I'm the last person who'd ascend and I know that, even if Daniel's being an idiot about it.

I run my fingers down the glass, wishing it were a window, wishing that I could know, somehow, that at least the sun was on the other side. It's a drop in the well I've filled up with wishes over the years, but something that small, that insignificant... it sucks the anger out and leaves a split-second of vacuum where I can almost think clearly for a second.

"You know? Screw it. It doesn't matter. Carter and Teal'c'll think of somethin'."

"Even if they could find out where you are..." Nope. Not buying into more despair at this time, Danny; we're full up in Jacktown. Shut your trap.

"And you know Jonas? He's at least as smart as you." It's a pathetic attempt at a jab and we both know it.

"There isn't always a way out, Jack." Goddamn his patience.

"Hey, if that was true, I'd a been dead a long time ago!"

"How many more times do you think you can go into that sarcophagus before it starts changing you?" I shrug -- he knows I can't know, he's just being pointed. "How many times has it been already?" Excuse me if I don't want to dwell on how many times I've been tortured to death today -- "It can regenerate your body, make you strong enough to go through that all over again, but all the time, it's destroying who you are. And once that happens, you won't be able to ascend no matter how much you want to."

"Hey -- I appreciate what you're trying to do." But it's not gonna work. We both know that, so if you're not going to help, why the hell don't you just get the hell... No. I don't want him to. Not really. Having him here is better than the alternative. Mostly.

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't believe you could do it." Daniel and his optimism -- always when wanted the least.

"This is me we're talkin' about!" A man who hasn't been completely honest with you for years, who doesn't always brush up against your shoulder or bump into you on accident. A man who knows damn well there's no salvation for himself -- not after Charlie, not after abandoning his wife to tend to his own misery. Not after a life like mine, Danny, choices like mine. It doesn't work that way, it isn't like that.

"Yes, it is." He nods at me like he knows everything, like he's already accepted me. I want to punch him for it -- for how wrong he is but more for how much I want him to know everything. How much I want that acceptance he thinks he's giving me. "Now, please, just try to open your mind." He leans his head back, closes his eyes -- and now I want to hold him again. Christ. No wonder Danny tried to shoot me all those years ago when he was withdrawing; the sarcophagus is screwing with my emotional control more than I realized.

"Oh stop it, will you?"

He's getting angry now; looks like even as a glowy-ascended-angel-whatever, his patience still knows some bounds. Good for you, Danny; it's about time you stop letting everyone and their mother push you around. "Come on, Jack. You-- you think the Asgard named uh, uh, a ship after you because they thought it was a cool name?" Even his angry stutter sounds stronger. "Now's not the time to play dumb. You're a lot smarter than that. They saw our potential in you -- because of who you are and what you've done." I'm lost there for a second -- our potential? Christ but I'm feeling sappy; can't help but wonder, could he be -- "Humanity's potential." Ah. Yeah. Should've known better. "That's the same thing Oma saw in me."

I'm damn near hissing at him. "I am not you."

"Yeah, when has that ever stopped you from doing anything?"

...You mean like not blurting out how I feel to you every single time I felt like it? Like not being an impetuous little bastard who ran around being earnest first and thinking about the consequences later? You have no fucking idea how much not being you has stopped me from doing things. I take a breath, try a more comfortable angle: "Okay. Put yourself in my shoes and me in yours."

"You'd be here for me." Daniel already looks a little resigned to my oncoming outburst, but I'm on a roll and I can feel my temper swelling out of my grasp.

"Damn straight! I'd've busted you out, blown this rat hole to hell and made sure that son-of-a-bitch suffered!" Because no one hurts you and gets away with it, no one, not on my watch.

"The Others would have stopped you."

"They'd have a hell of a fight on their hands." Haven't you been paying attention to what happens to any one or any thing that tries to hurt you? Tries to keep me from protecting you?

"You wouldn't do that --" He doesn't know HALF of what I'd do for him, because of him.

"Ba'al would be dead." And in a hundred and one bloody little bits.

"Jack --"

"And don't think I'd stop there!"

"You're a better man than that." He tips his chin up, just for a second, so defiant, so sure of himself.

I see him startle when I yell, even though he's made of energy and untouchable. "That's where you're wrong!"

He stares at me for a moment -- I can see him calculating, but I can't fathom what kind of conclusions he's coming to. I feel a little sick to my stomach; that was awfully close to admitting something more than friendship.

His voice is quiet, offering everything he has left. "Right now, I can't imagine doing or being anything other than what I am. I see things, I understand things in a way I never could have before. But I chose this. Even when Jacob was trying to heal me, I chose this." The pain of convincing Jacob to stop healing Daniel washes over me like it was ten seconds ago and my eyes slip shut against my will. How much can you puke up on an empty stomach, anyway? "But you in the place you're at right now -- you don't have any other choices. This is not your life we're talking about, Jack! This is your soul!" I flinch at the word 'soul' and at his volume. He's really angry and he's really convinced there's something in me left that you could call a soul. I shake my head wordlessly. "This is it. What I'm offering you is your only way out."

"You're wrong about that too." My voice comes out flatter than I'd meant to let it and Daniel narrows those eyes, boring more holes into me with them. "I have another choice." When he closes his eyes, I can still feel the hot points of anger on my cheek.

"What are you talking about?" I stare at him -- there are a lot of options. Blow me outta here. Give me even an iota of real help. ...Do whatever it takes to make sure this fucking cycle comes to an end. I tip my head back, just a bit, and he blinks slowly at me when his mind comes to another unspoken, dark conclusion. His voice is flat. "No."

"Any minute, they're gonna come; Ba'al is gonna kill me again. You can make it the last time." Whatever you choose, I don't care. I don't care. But do something; Danny, if you ever cared, do something. Anything. I can't handle this rat-in-a-trap feeling anymore.

"Don't ask me to do that." Figures he'd latch onto the most depressing option of the bunch. He's even looking a little panicked, now.

"You can put an end to it." And we both know that I could, too. Alone in this cell. No one watching. If it came to that.

"I won't do it." He shakes his head adamantly and I swear I can see a hint of 'you better not, either' in those baby blues.

The door slides open in horribly theatrical timing -- I look up, then back at Daniel. Set my jaw in a hard line. "I'd do it for you, and you know it." Then I step away from him, lay on the floor with my feet positioned to catch myself as the gravity shifts. I don't want to die. I don't think he'll kill me. I know I'd use my god-powers to blow the place to smithereens before I'd consider harming Daniel. I'm just hoping he understands, finally, how serious I am about getting the fuck out of here. "I don't wanna see this cell again, Daniel."

 

* * *

 

I thought I'd hope a little bit longer, to be honest. I thought... well, if nothing else, that Daniel'd come through, at the last minute -- hearing me say his name again and again, pinned to that web, I thought maybe...Well. If he were there, like he said he'd be, maybe he'd get as sick of watching Ba'al kill me over and over as I was sick of having the snakehead sonofabitch do it. But, I'm back in the cell now, feeling like a lump of stone, a wad of drying clay... and even so, I have to try, one last time. Once more. For her, if nothing else.

"Daniel?"

"I'm here."

"You were gone." You promised. You promised, but please tell me you weren't there, standing by and watching that.

"I know, I'm sorry -- there was something I had to do, but I'm back now and I promise I'll stay with you 'til this is over." I want it to comfort me but it hurts, even though the parts of me that hurt are going more and more numb with each spin cycle through that damned sarcophagus.

"It'll never be over." A fact, not a pessimistic line of shit. I've never been one to give up if there's any other option, not since Daniel helped me crawl out of that grave I'd dug for myself on the way to Abydos.

"Yes, it will."

"Daniel." You're a humanist, you've never been able to watch anyone suffer -- not if for a moment you had the smallest chance at stopping it... why won't you? "You have to end this."

"Jack, you just have to hang in there a little while longer."

"No. I can't go back in there." If you can't do it for me, at least do it for the woman. Do it for Kanan -- you should have sympathy for another man in love with the captive of a goa'uld, you've been there. With Sha're, at least. "If I go back, I swear to God... I'll give Ba'al what he wants. I'll tell him." And tell you.

"What?"

"That he loved her." That I love you.

"Kanan?"

"He... came back for her. He wanted to save her." I can't keep the hurt out of my voice -- Kanan came back for her, he did what he could, more than he should have ever done. He threw away the respect of the other Tok'ra to rescue the person he loved.

I don't have to look at him to know his eyes are searching me; what he doesn't see is I'm bleeding out. "Ba'al doesn't know that?"

"If he finds out, he'll do to her what he's doing to me. Daniel, if you don't end this... I'll tell him." Don't make me live with that, please, for fuck's sake, even for the few moments it'd take him to kill me the last time. I don't want my dying act to be giving a helpless woman up to torture.

"You won't have to. It's almost over, Jack."

I finally look at him then; notice the inflection in his voice. He's so close it hurts. Has he changed his mind, finally? I can't help the suspicion in my voice.

"How?"

That rueful smile, twitching at his lips, trying to show itself. "You were right, there's always a way out. At least there's always a chance. Your journey isn't over, Jack, not yet." Was that loss in those baby blues?

I feel energy, coming from a reserve I hadn't known existed. "What'd you do?"

"I didn't do anything. It was, um, Sam and Teal'c. And, uh, Jonas, too."

"What?"

He's smiling at me now, I can tell it's out of relief. Hell, Danny, I scared myself there, talking like that and knowing I believed it. The energy's swelling, unfurling as he concedes: "They thought of something."

I'm on my feet then, somehow: "What?!" There's an explosion above, the lights flicker --

"This is it. All you ever wanted was a fighting chance, Jack -- now you have it. If anyone can make it out of here, you can."

Then an announcement, like music to my fucking ears -- Lord Yu's knocking down Ba'al's front door. I catch myself, heart thudding in my chest as the gravity shifts. I call out to to Daniel but he's gone -- it hurts, to some degree, but he lit the fire up under my ass for me again. Beating the piss out of the first jaffa I lay eyes on helps me get back into my big boy boots -- I may be many things, but I'm not the kind of man who lets a chance like this pass me by, no matter how shitty the situation. This isn't the first close shave I'd had, not by a long shot, and knowing I can escape to face countless others puts all my piss and vinegar right back where it belongs.

By the time I find the woman, she's terrified -- hell only knows what Ba'al did to her when he caught Kanan trying to rescue her the first time. I grab her hand, pull her with me, share with her my fighting chance. That's all it ever takes. And the least I can do is pass it on to someone else who's loved and lost and pined and no one's getting left behind this time.

 

* * *

 

When my eyes roll open, Sam and Teal'c are filling Jonas in as the tech rolls the sunlamp away from me. I quip a bit about trying to sleep, then thank them best I can for the idea that saved my bacon. My body's still catching up to the idea that it's all over. As for my mind, I doubt I'm going to escape a few sessions with a therapist, that's for sure. I ask for some water and for some reason, they all go to get it -- and then Daniel's back. Standing there in that sweater, having enough grace to look at least a little bit sheepish.

"I always seem to be saying goodbye to you."

"Yeah, I noticed that." A twinge in my heart; remembering how badly I'd bitten my tongue in the gateroom while he was dying, begging me to help him die. I didn't spill my guts then... but maybe, if he could stay, just a little longer, under better circumstances... "Why don't you stick around for a while?"

"I can't, really." I hear just a hint of 'I wish I could, really' and it makes my heart warm toward him again despite the anger and loss I'd felt only hours before.

"You just did."

That little flush he always used to get when I called him out. "Special occasion."

It wasn't the time for me to spill my guts all those months ago; seems now isn't the time either. I can't bring myself to make it harder for him by coming out of the woodwork now -- but that doesn't mean I can't tease him, so I shift gears -- "Christmas?"

"No." Almost a laugh, almost a smile. I push again; damn but it feels so good to feel anything but bitter loss toward him.

"Groundhog Day?"

"Nooo..." That cute little eyebrow twitch, the corners of those lips turning upward...

I relent, then; I have a feeling I can get a real smile if I do. "I've got my journey, you've got yours?"

"Something like that, yeah." Ah! There it is; I nod at him, at myself -- if I can make Danny smile, even after all that... well, it's less than I want but leaps and bounds more than nothing. "Look... I know you don't think so right now; I mean, I know you have your doubts, but uh... because you've been through something that no one should have to go through..." He falters and I can see clearly, for the first time, how much it cost him not to blow Ba'al and company to bits. "I guess what I'm trying to say is... you're gonna be alright."

That sounds an awful lot like a goodbye speech, the end of the line before an even more final goodbye and I stall for a few more seconds with him. "How do you know?"

That smile, god, how it makes my heart ache with relief and longing at the same time: "You're just gonna have to trust me."

I have, for years, forever, since I met you, even when it tore my heart out to do it, even though I watched you walk through that gate and still see the back of your head every time I walk up the ramp; for crying out loud, Danny, don't go again, I love you so much it hurts. Stay, stay and let me show you, let me try -- "I can do that." His grateful smile brings a calm to my thoughts I certainly don't feel and I gives me enough clarity to ask him, "You gonna be okay?"

"I'm gonna be fine." The purse of his lips, his pupils so wide; I recognize that look. He's lying through his teeth, trying to say what he thinks is best to say instead of what he's really feeling. I open my mouth to argue, gently but firmly -- to tell him I didn't understand at the time and still really don't but if he did everything he could, it's okay. It's always been okay, I forgive you, don't beat yourself up --

Then Sam's walking in and Daniel's gone, but I smile at her anyway. They really came through for me, those three; it's enough to make an old dog feel truly loved, I tell ya. I thank her and she wishes me a good night and when she's gone, I look up, imagining Daniel's still there, somewhere close; I'm smiling again and somehow, it doesn't hurt as much as I thought it would.


End file.
